


It Happened Like This

by unsernameinuse



Category: Justin Bieber (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsernameinuse/pseuds/unsernameinuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn didn’t hate Justin Bieber (well, maybe a little, but that’s off the record).</p><p>This is a story in which Zayn does a lot of glaring, Niall does a bit of fighting, and Justin spends a lot of time being confused. It's okay, there is a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This goes into future!fic and exists in a universe where Selena and Justin broke up secretly shortly before the beginning of the Believe tour but didn’t make it public until just before the VMAs. 
> 
> This is going to turn into Niall/Justin/Zayn eventually. there will be moments of Justin/Niall, Zayn/Niall, and Zayn/Justin throughout.
> 
> I edited this myself so any remaining mistakes are no one else's fault! 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own any pop stars, i just make things up and mean no harm to anyone.

 

**1.**

Justin wasn’t really _bad_ at hookups (at least, not the way the public might have thought). The problem was that he hated the whole morning-after scenario, so much so that he could talk himself out of a really fun night just by picturing it.  Slipping out of a strange woman’s house before the neighbors woke up always left him feeling unsettled, like he was disappointing his mother even more than usual. He tried to do that as little as possible: just enough for the gossip rags to make everyone think he did it all the time.

Of course, it wasn’t always a woman. Those were easier. When he smiled at a cute guy and let him dance too close, it was easy to convince himself that leaving in the morning was the right thing to do.  That way, no one got hurt. His family didn’t have to fight, his fans didn’t have to be scandalized, the paparazzi didn’t have another slur to hurl, and the hookup in question was satisfied in the knowledge that Justin Bieber’s dick was not, in fact, the size of the dislike bar on a Beyonce video.

It struck him sometimes, on nights when he was awake with no one beside him, that a string of random, closeted hookups with male models was a far cry from his dream of settling down at twenty five. He wasn't in love with a beautiful Latina woman and living in a villa on the coast of France. He wasn’t…straight. He could usually think himself out of going down that road. After all, the hookups were fun, easy, and guilt-free. Everybody was a winner.

He didn’t spend too much time dwelling on it. He had a tour coming up in September, a breakup to get over _and_ hide from the public. Then there was the fact that around the beginning of the year “What Makes You Beautiful” blew up the US charts and Justin’s publicist starting hissing about One Direction.

 His team had been watching them, of course, but Scooter always advised a spirit of friendly competition instead of hostility. That was fine with Justin. He liked having friends and he liked competition. That meant that when Niall Horan started tweeting him there wasn’t any reason for him not to respond.

It was less like he _met_ Niall and more like Niall… _happened_ to him.

He assimilated into Justin’s life gradually after those first few tweets. Their managers encouraged it and one day Niall DM’d him asking for a video chat. He finally spoke to Niall face to face. It was awkward at first but they ended up laughing about something stupid and saying goodnight with smiles on their faces. After that came an exchange of numbers and awkward texts, drunk calls and drunk video chats.

Niall politely refused to be held at arm’s length. Justin had stopped automatically trusting people around the time “Baby” peaked at #5, but for some reason he couldn’t resist the openness of Niall’s smile.

 They met in London at an industry party, and it turned out that in real life Niall was just as chill and even more fun to hang with. As the night went on Justin noticed that Niall blushed whenever he caught Justin's eye, and his smile had a shy edge to it. It was weirdly endearing.

From that night on they were hanging out on a regular basis. Without his permission, Niall Horan moved into his life and set up shop.

 

Justin found out later that Niall’s band mates didn’t want anything to do with him. That was fine with him, he and Niall got along find by themselves. They played guitar together, shared music and cooked and traded clothes. Eventually, Justin could understand Niall's accent with no struggle at all. Eventually, Niall didn't find it the least bit strange to end a phone conversation by shouting "SWAGGIIIIIIIEE!" as loud as he could. Eventually, it was hard to remember a time when they weren't together. Niall became something like sunshine to Justin, he was bright and warm and Justin’s world revolved around him. Soon he couldn't pretend those feelings didn’t exist, so he did his best to pretend it wasn't scaring him to death.

One night, in May 2012, when the band was touring in America and Justin was on break, they were snuggled down into Justin’s hotel couch with a blanket around them, a movie on the screen, and the sounds of New York City outside. Having a bro-hang. Being bros. Broing it up to the  _max._

That was the night Niall changed the game completely.

He turned his head just a fraction of an inch, so he’d be just that bit more in Justin’s space, and said, “Hey, can I ask ya something?”

Justin said “Yeah, sure bro.”

“Do you plan on kissin me any time soon?” he said. Justin froze, his eyes going wider for a moment with shock, and then panic. “…because I gotta say, if you’re waiting for the right time…there’s none like the present, mate.”

Justin sat still for a second. He turned his head slowly, and Niall’s bright blue eyes were right there. Open and honest and gorgeous. He’d been thinking of Niall as unattainable for so long, and now Niall was telling him that was changing. Or at least, he hoped it was. He clutched his hand in the blanket to stop it from shaking. Niall looked a little shaky too but he didn’t waver. Justin leaned forward just a little, until Niall was a thin breath away from him. There was no protest, no drawback, no “I changed my mind”. So he took that breath and went for it.

Justin kissed him and Niall stayed.

Niall felt like the blood had starting flying in his veins. Justin was kissing him. He was kissing Justin. A quick one first, like they were getting away with something. A longer one after that. Niall shoved every feeling of insecurity to the back of his mind because Justin didn’t kiss like he was thinking about pulling away. He was pressing closer every second, hungry, his hand sliding up Niall’s thigh. _Why,_ he wondered, _did this take so long?_

Justin pulled back from that second kiss with half-closed eyes, and smiled at him. Niall smiled back, he couldn't have helped smiling if he wanted to. He made the split second decision to remember this moment for the rest of his life, no matter what. Then he kissed Justin's smile until it was replaced with his tongue, and both their hands started to slide further and clutch at clothing. He pushed his fingers into Justin’s hair and tugged him downwards, on top of him in a tangle of blankets and legs. Justin sighed into him, kissed him harder and deeper, as if to make up for every time he’d held himself back since they met, and Niall kissed him back to let him know he would forgive him as long as he didn't stop.

This was pretty much the state (give or take a few articles or clothing) in which Zayn found them fifteen minutes later.

 

**2.**

Zayn didn’t hate Justin Bieber (well, maybe a little, but that’s off the record).

He hated Niall and Justin Bieber. Niall+Justin. _Jiall._ He hated the starry-eyed gaze, the deep mope when Justin was away. He hated how Niall peppered conversations about music with “Well, Justin says” and “Justin thinks that—“. He hated how Justin had Niall listening to new music (songs Zayn had recommended a thousand times and Niall never paid attention to before), the food he had him in love with. He hated the way Justin’s expensive hoodies fit Niall in just the right way.

Niall was his best mate, and he couldn’t help feeling that Justin was taking him away, bit by bit and inch by inch, with every jam (read: make out) session, and every pot of weird-tasting noodles.

“But I’ve always liked Justin,” Niall said to him when he tried to explain this. “Since before we even  _met_. Come on, this has to be something else.”

“Yeah, maybe we should  _talk_ about somethin’ else.”

Niall didn’t bring it up again.

 

They lived peacefully for awhile, Niall, Justin, and one direction. They cooperated in tamping down fan wars over the VMAs, Zayn and Niall even went to Justin’s house afterwards. Zayn started the evening in a good mood from winning, then slid into feeling rather grumpy from watching Justin and Niall be cute together and then hurting his ankle on that _fucking_ skate board ramp. The other boys laughed at him.

 They had an uneasy truce, where Justin didn’t ask where Niall had to go, and only referred to the band as “your friends”, and none of the boys commented when Niall showed up late to things, lips swollen from kisses and his eyes lit up. As Louis put it, “He might be annoying, but he makes Niall happy and we haven’t got the right to shit on that.”

Of course, sooner or later, they’d have to cross paths.

It happened in August. Niall was with Justin at an event and he didn’t have a ride to the airport, which was where he was supposed to be thirty minutes before .

When Zayn was elected unanimously to go with the security team to pick him up he decided that his band mates must hate him.

“Why not Liam?” he complained. “He’s the one who gets on with him!  _He_ should be doing this.”

“Because,” Louis said, “We like to see you suffer.”

“Fuck you.”

He prayed to himself that Justin would simply put Niall out front conveniently, like a package. But prayer had never worked out well for Zayn.

To make matters worse, the event turned out to be a fucking  _festival._ He wasn’t in the mood for crowds of people or the shoving and chaos that came with them. It reminded him of how much better being at home in bed was.  He had to fight through a mob of fans, security, and a maze of back rooms before they  _finally_ found Scooter Braun. Efficient person that he was, Justin’s manager had arranged for the car to be pulled around to a back lot and an assistant to lead Zayn to Justin and Niall before they’d even finished shaking hands.

The assistant lead them through a labyrinth he never would have been able to navigate on his own and left him at the door. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t particularly want to know what was going on in there either. He sighed and turned the knob anyway.  The first thing he saw was one of Niall’s half-packed duffels abandoned on the floor. Then he realized his best friend was attached to Justin Bieber by the lips…the hips…aaaaand their legs were tangled too. That couldn’t have been comfortable with the way they were curled into the wall.

For a moment, all Zayn could do was stare. This was the second time he’d witnessed his best friend snogging another guy's face off. The first time, they were lying on the couch smiling at each other and laughing, all timid and cute like new couples are. Now they looked like two halves of the same entity, every part of them fitted together perfectly. They kissed like two people who didn’t know how to do anything else, like nothing else was important, and Zayn realized that while he’d been ignoring it, Justin and Niall had been going strong for almost four months now. For some reason, that thought screwed his stomach up in knots, and he desperately wanted to hit something.

“Niall.” his voice came out in a snarl even though he didn’t mean it too. They jumped apart with wide eyes like children caught stealing sweets.

Niall relaxed visibly when he saw his friend—not against the wall, Zayn noticed, but against Justin’s chest. “Oh, hey mate. I uh, got a little distracted.” He smiled. Zayn didn’t. “I’m just gonna go…get the rest of my bags.” he scrambled off, mouthing 'Be nice', and there it was.

Zayn was alone with Justin Bieber.

He leaned against the wall, checked his phone, and sighed. Justin leaned against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. Zayn was glad. Maybe if they just ignored each other, this would all be painless and everyone could go home with no open wounds.

“So,” said Justin.

Of course not.

“What's the deal with me dating Niall? I think I know why you’re pissed—“ Zayn bristled visibly, his stomach twisting with humiliation. Justin ignored his glare though, and he knew if he tried to talk about it he’d most likely vomit. “—What I don’t get is  why the other guys hate me. Why can’t we get along?

A quick glance up showed him that Justin was (so much better looking than he remembered. It was annoying) frowning like a little puzzled puppy.

“We do get along,” Zayn lied. Inside he was kind of glad that the boys made it clear they didn’t like Justin either, so he didn’t look like the one shit friend raining on everyone’s parade. “We want Niall to be happy. You make him happy. Doesn't mean we have to be your best mates or something.”

“Yeah, you say that," his tone was sharp enough to make Zayn look up, already frowning in response. "But he  _isn't_. You gotta know that. He feels like he has to pretend you guys don't exist so I don't feel left out. That's a huge part of his life that he has to walk on eggshells with, and I bet you anything it's the same with you guys." 

 _Well shit_. It probably made him a terrible friend that he didn’t even have to think before he knew Justin was right. It was like the thought had been lingering in the back of his mind all along but he’d shoved it away. It was always awkward when, say, Niall remembered something funny Justin said and began to recount it, only to face Louis eyes already starting to roll, Zayn spacing out, and Harry's not-so-subtle puff of annoyance. He always trailed off and then switched to another topic.

"I want him to be happy," Justin said seriously. "I don't want him to feel sad about something when he doesn't have to. I've tried to tell him that I want to get along with you all but he says it's better if we just don't talk."

Zayn didn't say a word. There wasn't anything to could say. He and the guys had been thinking of the situation as some kind of perfect compromise, but it really wasn't. Niall was toeing a ridiculous line between the two parts of his life that made him happiest, so in the end he's miserable. And for what? He felt the guilt rise up from where he'd pushed it back and settle on his shoulders. The other guys barely knew Justin, they hadn't spent the nights in LA with him like Zayn had. They'd mostly followed his lead in this whole thing, because he couldn’t stand to be around Justin anymore, and they'd all come up with their own reasons why. He had been so, so, incredibly stupid.

Not that he's telling Justin that.

Zayn turned his back to Justin as Niall re-entered the room. He started at his phone and ignored their goodbye kisses and promises to call. On the ride to the airport, Niall texted Justin and Zayn stared out the window. This needed to be fixed, but he wasn't sure how.

He decided to wait until they were all back in London. The boys would help him figure out what to do.

 

**3.**

“God, why the fuck didn’t we think of that?” Louis said, sagging against Zayn’s kitchen counter.

Harry fell against his side, his eyebrows drawn down into a wide V over his nose. “Niall must be feeling like shit. I don’t even know why we’ve been taking the piss out of Justin so much—“

“Cause he’s an annoying little shithead.” Louis muttered.

“He’s not _that_ bad.” Liam countered.

“Come on Li,” Zayn smiled. “You want me to believe you _like_ listening to him use ‘swag’ to describe everything? Bought a new house? Swag. Had a limb amputated? Swag. Decided to quit music and become an astronaut?—“

“SWAGGYYYY!” Louis screeched. He and Zayn shared a laugh but Liam frowned and Harry’s eyebrows just drew closer together.

“Well that’s all fine if you want to make fun of him," Harry snapped. "but then we all do that stuff in front of Niall. Think about it. That’s the guy he’s _in love_ with. They barely get to see each other. I’ve seen him crying and stuff after they Skype cause he misses him to much. Imagine if we acted like this whenever one of us had a relationship.”

Zayn blinked in the aftermath of Harry’s outburst. Yes, he wanted the guys to help him, but he didn’t want to lose them on his side either. “None of the girls were ever that annoying.” He said dryly. Nothing. Harry just glared at him until he relented. “I know, I know, okay? That’s why I called you over. We’ve been mean about Justin, and it’s not right. We should try and get along with him," he waited a beat then rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I just said that. I think I'm going to be sick."

“Okay that’s enough,” Liam said. “Louis I get. He’s joking with this stuff, aren’t you Lou?”

“Mostly, yeah.” Zayn wouldn’t say Louis was _cowering,_ exactly. But he was the oldest, the fun parent to Liam’s responsible one. When Liam was truly upset at him, he always got a look about him like he felt sick.

“And it’s not _actually_ going to pain you that much to be nice to Justin right?”

“Right.”

“Okay then. But you, Zayn. You’re usually more mature than this,” Liam was staring into his eyes with that intense look he sometimes got, like he was searching out the truth in your soul so he could lift it out of all your secret crevices and show it to the world like a prize. Another problem solved. Zayn didn’t like that look one bit. “You sound like getting along with the guy our best mate is in love with is going to cause you physical pain or something. It’s like you won’t take it seriously. What the fuck is your problem?”

Zayn could feel Harry and Louis’ eyes burning into the side of his neck. He dropped Liam’s gaze and felt around for his cigarettes. “I need a smoke.” He muttered.

Liam sighed. “Of course you do.”

 

  

“We don’t want you to feel like you have to choose,” Liam said softly later that afternoon, “or like you’re betraying us.  Justin’s annoying, but he’s not awful. He treats you right, and you’re crazy about him. So…” he looked around at the other boys, who were nodding earnestly. “we’ve decided we’re gonna try harder with him.”

The other guys nodded in agreement, and Niall dropped his head onto his arms. “Shit.” he said into his sleeves. He resurfaced with tears in his eyes and a huge grin. “You have  _no idea_ how good it feels to hear that.” he sat for a moment, smiling at them like crazy, and then launched at them with his arms open.

After that, the serious discussion dissolved into a half group hug, half wrestling match. Zayn extracted himself from the fray almost immediately and stretched out on the rug to watch.

He was repulsed at the thought of seeing them together more often, of course, but knew he’d done the right thing. He couldn’t do anything _less._  Niall was his best friend, and if he wanted to date an annoying pop star …well, he’d just have to cope.

 

 

 “I don’t know what the fuck I was expecting,” Zayn said, drunkenly and to himself,  “but this is worse. So much worse.”  It was two months later, and he and the guys were gathered at Justin’s house in LA. Justin and Louis were competing in ping-pong, with Niall cheering loudly for Justin, and Harry screaming like a madman every time Louis made a point. Liam was good-naturedly neutral, laughing along as the trash talk escalated but still, somehow, stayed friendly.

It was like a sick joke at his expense.

“Quiffy,” Louis called without looking up from the game, “stop moping!”

Zayn dragged up a fake smile and flashed it at the room in general before burying himself in his cup again. He knew that didn't fool anyone, and he was right. Before long Liam drifted over. “Zayn,” he said, all calm and patient “why do you stand by the wall and glare every time we hang out with him? He’s actually fairly nice most of the time. You should—“

“I really shouldn't,” he interrupted. “…I need a cigarette.”

Liam sighed. “Of course you do.” but his voice was fond.

In a way, Zayn wished someone would get angry at him. Snap at him and tell him to get over himself. Maybe that would be the push he needed to finally tell them. As it was, he couldn’t quite find the courage. He didn’t  _want_ to be the rude, bitter friend standing on the edge of things with a cigarette and a frown. But he was angry, too afraid to tell anyone why, and Justin Bieber’s smile was too dazzling to think around.

“I WIN. SUCK IT TOMLINSON!” Justin crowed. “ _SUCK. IT._ ” Louis protested and Harry booed. Niall laughed and Justin kissed him. Liam wordlessly handed Zayn another drink.

 

Eight months.

Justin and Niall had been dating for eight months now, and it seemed to be stretching into eternity. Zayn had forced himself to seem more cheerful, but everyone saw right through it. He knew his smiles were wearing thin while everyone else cooed over how cute Justin and Niall were together.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” his mother would ask repeatedly on the phone. He’d put on the fake cheer and think he’d convinced her and then Liam would trail into the room sheepishly a few minutes later with orders to make him sleep or eat or stop moping. He was afraid one day Liam would get sick of it and make him spill his guts. Thanks but no, he liked his guts where they were. So he worked harder to make himself seem cheerful.

It’d been eight months, and Niall couldn’t have been happier. He walked around smiling all the time and he told the press that he had someone but it was “private for now”. Justin got a cryptic tattoo, and only Niall knew what it meant. Justin wrote a song for him. He didn’t record it but he played it every time Niall came to a show. Niall sang it to himself all the time. Justin just smiled when people commented on how he must be loving the single life. Niall's tank tops and sneakers were mixed in with his harem pants and beanies. They flew each other back and forth, sneaking in and out of hotels and limousines. Meanwhile, Zayn wasn’t jealous. Of either of them. That would’ve been ridiculous.

 One January night, when Niall was visiting Justin's tour in New York, Justin pulled him up onstage and serenaded him with One Less Lonely (boy, shy and half-whispered through the notes for the sake f all the camera phones), flower crown and all. He treated it like every other, except with maybe a little more weight to the way he stared into Niall's eyes, maybe a little more shine in his smile. They didn’t say it was a joke, and they didn't say it wasn't. They just did it, and let the world make of it what they would. Well, that was the plan at least, on a high of post-show exhilaration.

The next morning, reality set in as the Hollywood gossip machine spun to life. There was a flood of press coverage about their ‘unconventional bromance’, ranging from teasing, to curious, to downright malicious.

There were fan conspiracy theories left and right. Some were supportive, others not so much. Justin’s publicist said he should be seen hanging either with or around Selena again. Justin didn’t like that idea but he was just scared enough to consider it. Niall vetoed, for obvious reasons. Justin's whole team (now getting worried) was pushing for the plan, which had Justin thinking that maybe he should tell his manager, Scooter. He wanted someone official between them and the frenzy, someone on their side.

Niall, however, had seen the press drag Harry through the mud by his balls for his choice in dates. Even after they thought their management would help them and instead reported their “inappropriate behavior” to the higher-ups. He didn’t want that for them. He wanted to be honest and open, sure, and a year ago he would have dragged Justin into the street, kissed him in front of a crowd of papperazzi, and fuck what anyone had to say about it. But he'd learned that life didn't always allow for that. Family and safety was more important than letting the public make demands. Justin was afraid of telling people, he wasn't stupid. He's learned his lesson from Selena, though. Eventually, people would find out and it was better if happened on his terms. They each tried to explain how they felt about it, but inevitably someone said the wrong ting at some point, tempers started to rise, until they were yelling about two totally separate things.

The fight built for two weeks, aided by furious texting, pleading phone calls, and tense Skype dates. Louis’ jaw was constantly clenched with unsaid words and Harry’s eyebrows drew down every time he looked at Niall. Zayn started inhaling cigarettes like air and Liam’s eyes got narrow.

The night it all came to a head, Justin had just flown into London under the pretense of celebrating someone-or-other’s platinum single. They were all out drinking with a few friends and the night was going well. Niall and Justin seemed to have put their differences aside for the night, which meant they were being as disgustingly cute as they could get away with in public. Which meant Zayn was making every attempt possible to stay away from them. He had just stepped out of the bathroom (for the fifth time) when he caught the middle of a conversation happening nearby.

"I mean like, do you think they _are_?"

"I mean...they're pretty handsy with each other. But that whole group is super gay I mean it's a  _boy band._ "

"Perez says the 'source' saw them kissing backstage at Justin's New York show."

"Right, like that means it's true."

"I'm just saying...it could be."

He could already hear the rumble from their group that meant he was too late to help but he shoved his way back over anyway, just in time to hear Justin saying "I'm the stubborn asshole? I'm not the one-"

The rest of that assertion was drowned out by a very drunk, very angry Niall  _flipping a table._ "BULLSHIT." he yelled.

Around them, the crowd went wide eyed and Zayn put his head in his hands. Security headed for Niall immediately but he stomped out ahead of them. Through the front door, no less. Security was right behind him and surrounded the remainder of their party in no time. Zayn met Liam’s eyes accross the crowd and shook his head. He'd never seen Niall get angry drunk. At least not table-flipping angry. It was kind of terrifying. Justin, of course, thought no such thing. He was already shoving away security (they were paid to take care of the band so no one actually tried that hard to stop him) and running after Niall, yelling in barely distinguishable French.

The door slamming behind him was like a trigger. The room erupted with noise, B-list celebrities trading opinions, word getting around. Zayn wandered over to Liam just in time to hear his heavy sigh and agreed. The gossip blogs would have more than enough 'sources' now. Not to mention the paps that were no doubt outside.

That was just the beginning. It was an epic battle—one for the books, as they say—that lasted for weeks.

Their nine month anniversary approached, and Justin and Niall still weren’t speaking. They were both miserable, and surprisingly, so was Zayn. He found that he didn’t like seeing either of them hurt like this. Justin kept tweeting sad song lyrics and blurry instagram pictures. Niall was fitful and irritated. He tried to pull out the happy but everyone that knew him could see through it. Niall’s brother called each of the other boys asking what was wrong and they each had to tell him it was best if he talked to Niall.

 Niether Justin or the band's publicists could give more than vague responses to the rumors. Managers, handlers, and PR agents were at their wits end and working on zero information. Niall would get pulled into a meeting with all the higher ups and have to be hugged within an inch of his life once it was over but he never revealed much of anything.

 Zayn started getting calls in the middle of the night. He always answered because he wasn’t sleeping anyway, and he started to expect them on certain nights.

“What should I do?” Justin asked during one such call, his voice heavy and slow. Zayn’s first thought was that he must be drunk, but he wasn’t. He was tired and sad the same way he’d been for the last month.

“Mate," he said honestly, "I don’t have a fucking clue.”

“Niall's not comfortable with anyone official knowing, and I don't know how to get him to change his mind." he sighed. "Who would  _you_  tell? Someone not official? Besides you guys? Someone who can help us?”

Zayn  thought about it for a second. “My parents, I guess. Isn’t that who matters?”

Justin was quiet, then said “Thanks man.” and hangs up.

Zayn stared at his phone for a second. Then he groaned and buried his face in his pillow. “Why?” he asked its fluffy depths. The pillow had no response.

 

A bright happy instagram picture taken in Stratford a few days later let Zayn know they were together again and apparently they were going to tell Justin’s family first. He was happy about it. It meant things could go back to everyone being happy, him pretending to be, and the dark cloud could lift off of their lives.

With that knowledge, he spent the next few days looking realistically happy. He, Liam, and Louis made plans for lunch. The other two spent the time catching him up on their relationships and trying to get him to laugh. It worked a few times. All in all, it was a good day until the phone call.

 Niall called from the airport, so hysterical that his accent might has well have been another language. He was swearing and spitting and sobbing a little bit. Zyan finally got the story out of him, and relayed the short version to Liam and Louis. Apparently their first stop went well. Justin’s little siblings didn’t really get what was happening, but they loved Niall right away. Justin’s father had taken him aside for a long talk, but after that he and Justin’s step mother hadn’t seemed to mind. The stepmother even seemed to like Niall a lot, maybe because he loved her cooking.

Justin’s mother, however.  She had hugged Niall when they first arrived, sighing about how cute he was and how much she loved his accent. She was cute and tiny and sweet.  Niall had a brief moment where he’d though he was wrong and this would turn out fine. Then Justin tangled their fingers together and told her, his face all lit up and beautiful. Zayn knew the exact expression he described.

According to Niall she hadn’t yelled or cussed or lectured, the first two Niall’s expectation, the third Justin’s. Instead, she sank into the couch, buried her face in her hands, and cried.

They were not, Niall informed him, tears of joy.

Justin’s face had crumpled immediately. He set in trying to comfort her while Niall stood there feeling beyond awkward. Justin hugged her, and talked softly. He begged and reasoned and cried a little himself. Nothing worked.

He heard her say “I don’t want him in my house.” The look on Justin’s face was of absolute heartbreak. Niall didn’t feel so good either. He left the room. He was already planning on finding a hotel until Justin's mom calmed down but a few minutes later, Justin came out and took him aside. He’d gone in for a kiss and then stopped, told Niall he would take care of everything, but “Maybe you should go bacl to London? I’ll call you.”

Louis drew in a breath through his teeth and Liam’s eyes went wide. “Shit,” Zayn said. “I’m sorry.”

Niall’s language descended into guttural swearing, and Zayn decided it was best if they abandoned lunch and went to pick him up.

On the way from the airport Niall stared out of the window like the secret to eternal life lay in London’s traffic. Zayn, Liam and Louis didn’t say a word.

 

4.

“Remember that fashion show after party? First time we hooked up?” Niall asked. He was sitting on Zayn’s couch, staring at the television, and those were the first words he’d said since the ride over. By now, the whole world knew  _something_ had happened. Blurry, unflattering pap photos of Niall crying at the airport were floating around the internet. Of course, speculation about Justin’s absence lead to the general public believing there was a battle going on. That lead to the fans starting wars on twitter, which lead to crappy things trending, which lead to Zayn hiding the phones and laptops and forcing Niall to watch cartoons.

He had expected Niall to talk. To maybe mention the three free days he had looming ahead of him that were supposed to be filled with eating Canadian food and hanging out with Justin’s family. This was the about the last topic he was expecting.

“Yeah,” Zayn said. He dropped to the couch beside his friend, wordlessly handing him a beer. “I remember. We got trashed, tried to take over the DJ booth, got kicked out…”

“…Went back to Harry and Nick’s place and had sex on the couch. Man, Nick was pissed off.” Niall laughed softly. Zayn smiled, but didn’t say anything else. This wasn’t going to end well, but he knew it’d have to play itself out.

Niall was the one who put his foot down about discussing that part of their past. They’d loved each other, but they’d been a lot younger. It had been frustrating, confusing, and bad for the band.  Breaking up was the only logical option. At least, that was what they said when they talked it out. That didn’t make it hurt less.

“God we were crazy about each other.” Niall continued. Zayn glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Your mum even wanted us to get married.” And there it was. The crack in the armor. Niall took a deep shuddering breath, curled sideways into Zayn’s shoulder, and exhaled in a sob. “ _Dammit.”_

Zayn didn’t say a word.  He lifted his arm and curled it around Niall, pulling his friend to his chest. He rested his chin in Niall’s dark roots and took deep breaths. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. He made shushing noises and waited out the storm.

He thought about how they’d been. The way he would always act goofy just to see Niall smile. How they made each other laugh for no reason at all. The way they used to dance and smoke and smile, and hold each other at night. He remembered the feeling he’d get when Niall would lean in close to talk to him, the way they gave each other secrets. He wondered, for a moment, as his best friend in the world fell apart in his arms, if maybe it had been a mistake to give up. If this was a sign.

As if reading his mind, Niall pulled back. He looked down with wet blue eyes and sighed. He leaned down and Zayn tilted up in sync, their lips coming together just like old times. Niall pressed himself flush against Zayn’s chest, ran his fingers through his rumpled black hair. Zayn pressed back, curled his fingers into Niall’s sides. The kiss was hot and wet and deep, giving and taking and lost together. For a moment, it was hard to remember what year it was, hard to remember ever being apart and why they broke up in the first place.

Then Niall pulled back with another of those shuddery breaths, and suddenly the memories were all too clear. The fights, the stress, the blaming each other…not because they weren’t in love, but because of the cameras, the people, the  _pressure._ They were older now, but Zayn could feel in his gut that wasn’t going to be enough. Maybe it never would be.

“Oh God, we can’t do this.” Niall said. He flopped sideways and blinked back the tears, wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Shit. Zayn—“

“It’s fine,” Zayn said softly. “I know.” He dragged his fingers slowly through Niall’s hair, watching the television lights flick across his face. They stayed like that, Niall slipping asleep and Zayn just breathing.

Apparently breathing eventually turned into sleep because however many hours later he was woken by his phone buzzing in the back of the apartment. The sun was just barely up and in the weak light from the front window Niall looked like a tragedy. His hair was mussed, eyebrows furrowed, eyes still puffed up from the tears. Zayn moved experimentally and Niall burrowed even further into his chest where he had fallen during the night, so Zayn let the phone buzz.

Maybe an hour later Niall started awake, for a moment looking sleepy and peaceful. Then the last few days seemed to come to mind all at once, and his shoulders dropped.

“Mornin,” Zayn said softly.

 “Fooooood,”Niall groaned.

Zayn laughed. “hold on, I’ll make us something.” He was going through his cupboards when he heard a phone going off. It was Niall’s, his ringtone still a snippet of Justin freestyling. The song stopped and Zayn realized Justin’s freestyle wasn’t one of the other boy’s ringtones. He ran back into the living room and found Niall staring white faced at his phone.

“Who was that?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Justin’s in London.”

 

Zayn quickly remembered why he hid the electronics in the first place. Niall, usually so carefree, was torturing himself with the internet. A few gossip sites had headlines like “Trouble in Bromantic Paradise?” “Justin Bieber vs One Direction?” and “Princes of Pop at War”. Their fans were _still_  bickering on Twitter. He flipped through pictures of Justin looking cool and collected at Heathrow airport. He didn’t have his third watch on, the one that was supposed to be tuned to Niall’s time zone. But to be fair, they were in the same one now.

He didn’t call.

Niall desperately tried to pretend he didn’t care, but he turned the volume all the way up on his phone and glanced at it every few seconds. Zayn made breakfast and served it without comment.

 

Around afternoon, Justin was spotted having a casual lunch with Conor Maynard, like they weren’t Niall’s maybe-ex-boyfriend and close-friend-who-should-be-mad-at-said-maybe-ex respectively. They sat on an outdoor balcony at a fancy restaurant, like an open invitation to paparazzi and fangirls everywhere. Twitter exploded again, and it was reported they had to leave through the back door because of the crowd they drew.

Around that time, Niall started to get angry. “WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT ASSHOLE THINK HE IS?” He screamed. That and similar things. Zayn was pissed too , but mostly he was sad about the whole damn situation. He let Niall  scream though, because he was drinking and listing every reason he ever had for breaking up with Justin.  It seemed to be cathartic. “I WANNA FIND THE BASTARD AND CHOP HIS DICK OFF.”

“Niall, come on mate.”

“Where is he? Give me the fucking phone.”   Niall snatched Zayn phone away, his coordination revealing that he wasn't as drunk as he was pretending to be. Zayn rolled his eyes, expecting Niall to stalk twitter like he had been all day. Instead, Niall dialed a number he knew by heart. “HEY, Fredo!” He crowed.

“Oh hey, Niall!” Zayn heard through the speaker.

“Did that bastard tell you what he did?” Niall demanded.

Zyan closed his eyes. “Christ, Niall.” Niall liked to think of them all as best friends, but the truth was that they didn’t know Fredo on a super-personal level, and one thing they knew for sure was how protective he was of Justin.

 On the other end, there was a hesitant silence. “…yeah. He told me everything last night.”

“And you told him he’s a fucking tool, right?” Zayn dropped his head onto the table. He didn’t want to be fighting with more friends.

“I…eventually, yeah, kinda. But listen, Niall, there was more stuff going on that you don’t know about—“

“He didn’t fucking tell me about it, did he? Fuckin kicked me out, the shit.”

“I know. He needs to man up and talk to you.”

“Fuckin right.”

“He’s just…you know what? Come to the show tonight.”

“Justin has a show tonight?” Zayn said, surprised. Justin and Niall were technically still scheduled for vacation. Neither of them had anything scheduled. Not that he’d stalked them or pestered Niall for details. At all. Of course not.

“Hey, waddup Z!” Fredo said.

“Hey man. What’s up with this show?”

“Well, it’s not really _his._ Some other artists are gonna play too, twenty minute sets. We kind of snuck him in…there’s no cameras or phones allowed. He’s only gonna play two acoustics, two covers, and one new song.

“Sounds like we gotta be there.”

“Yeah, you should come. Niall, you and J can talk it out afterwards.”

Niall went silent. “Okay,” Zayn said for the both of them. “Send us the address and stuff. We’ll be there.” He took the phone from Niall, who seemed kind of frozen, and hung up after a quick goodbye.

“We can’t do this!” Niall said immediately.

Zayn glanced at the clock. It was half after seven. The show started at nine, which meant they had just enough time. “We can if we get drunk first.”

 

Alfredo helped them sneak into the back. Someone else was up when they get there. To Zayn’s surprise, the venue was about mid-sized and packed. There was a bar on the other side of the room, everyone was standing and swaying quietly along to the wispy black girl onstage singing about peace.

He leans into Fredo’s space and whispers, “He’s playing _here_?” 

Fredo winks and smiles. “You know how he is when he wants something. They couldn’t exactly stop him.” Knowing Justin, that made sense.

They maneuvered over to the bar and got more drinks as the girl onstage wrapped up. Alfredo leaned over to whisper to Zayn, “Justin’s up next.”

Justin stepped out of the wings in soft grey jeans, a red beanie pulled over all but the tips of his hair, his guitar on his back and dog tags flashing in the lights around his neck. Zayn felt Niall catch his breath next to him, so Zayn let his out slowly. Justin sat down on the stool, strummed his guitar once, and then looked up. Immediately the crowd began to boo.

Justin smiled pleasantly, catching a coke bottle out of the air as it hurtled toward his head. Alfredo chuckled.  Justin was not above stalking away from a fight and sulking like a toddler, but when it came to performing he never gave ground. “I’m not leaving,” he said sweetly, “so you might as well just listen.”

And then he started singing Niall’s song. Niall put his drink down and sank against Zayn’s side. Niether of them said anything, just swayed along to the music. Justin segued into “Be Alright”, Niall’s favorite song from  _Believe_. Zayn chanced a glance over at Niall and felt his heart ache a little. He didn’t think he’d ever seem Niall’s eyes shine quite as bright as they did when he was with Justin. It was as if he was _watching_ his friend fall deeper in love.

Justin leaned over his guitar, smiling softly into the mic. His voice was strong and smooth and lovely, the way it always was. Zayn thought maybe he could see the sadness in his face as he switched up the phrasing, making the song sound just the tiniest bit heartbroken. It was hard to tell from the back with shadow falling over his face.

Then Justin slipped into an acoustic of ‘Right Here’. Not the bass-heavy R&B sound of the studio track, but a slipping, sliding bluesy version that Zayn had heard once before. The crowd was still around him, a drink still in his hand, the lights still up…but all of a sudden he was in a different place.

A year ago, two months before Justin and Niall got together. He remembered sitting by Justin’s pool while Justin strummed. They were alone, and they were high, and it was midnight. He remembered kicking his feet through the freezing water and humming along to Justin’s guitar.

“Hey, listen to this, okay?” Justin said. Then he’d started to play that same song. Zayn remembered watching Justin’s eyebrows crinkle as he leaned into the music, listening to his voice transform into something Zayn’d never heard before. In that moment, he wanted Justin to quit everything and run away with him, jump on a train across the country and sing duets in smoky jazz clubs like the ones from the 20s. He wanted it to bad he could taste it. And when the song died out and all that was left was the night around them, he wanted to kiss Justin so bad it felt like there wasn’t any way to stop himself. He remembers the clatter of the guitar falling to the side and how neither of them cared.

That was the night he fell in love. Ever since then, he’d hit the walls, been consumed by jealousy and anger and confusion and utter exhaustion. But he still hadn’t found the bottom.

He blinked, pushing back the tears that had tried to surface. He’s been pushing them aside for months and there’s no way he’s letting them fall now. He must be drunker than he thought. He felt a touch on his shoulder as Justin went into a cover. “mate, you okay?”

“M’fine.” He lifted his head and tried to smile, but he knew his heart was laid out in his eyes. Niall looked right at him and saw the whole damn story in one moment.

“Oh.” Is all he said.

Zayn took a deep breath and decided he was going to enjoy the rest of this show, because afterwards it was very likely he and Niall’s relationship was going to collapse.

 

“I didn’t know.” Niall said in the cab. They were curled into each other, drunk and full of unspoken understanding.

When they reached the flat they stumbled in and kicked off their shoes. Zayn automatically turned on his ipod in the speaker dock and let good r&b filled the space. Niall tugged him easily onto the couch. “Okay,” he said, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

Zayn was just drunk enough not to hesitate. “Okay, so. Like, the first night I met him, while the other guys and Fredo were all playing video games and he was showing me his skate ramp? We hooked up before the others came down. And like…he didn’t say anything about it after. I didn’t care or whatever, cause that’s what he did back then. But then we started hanging with him more and I got this huge crush on him. Remember when I started acting all weird when we were in America? Yeah. Then we hooked up again. A few more times, actually. That’s when I realized he wasn’t into me the way I was into him. And for some reason I fell harder. I guess I’m just pathetic.”

“Don’t say that about yourself, Zayn. Falling for someone doesn’t make you pathetic.”

“Maybe not but…he wasn’t interested. I got really embarrassed about liking him, so then I got really angry about it. But I still loved him, the managers still wanted us all the hang out …I couldn’t take seeing him so much. So I just decided I hated him. And then Louis picked up on it and got angry on my behalf even though he didn’t know what happened. Harry took the cue from him, and Liam was confused. So we just all moved away from him.”

“Except for me.”

“Right. Cause you were always Skyping him and you had a crush and you were too embarrassed to meet him in person. Then none of us wanted to go to that industry party, but there was good caterer and you didn’t have anything else to do. You guys got together and I cried a little and then I tried to get over it. And now we’re here and I’m not over it.”

“And you never told me.”

Zayn shrugged. “Didn’t wanna cause problems.”

They were silent for a moment, listening to Frank sing about looking ready for a funeral. “You know what,” Niall said. “I never told him we dated. We had the whole exes conversation once but I didn’t bring you up. Dunno why. ”

“Niall…”

“I’m glad I didn’t. It’s not his fucking business.”

Zayn shrugged. He personally had moved past hating Justin for insensitive, immature behavior, but he supposed that for Niall the wound was still fresh. Getting told to leave after meeting your boyfriend’s mother was significantly worse than a few hookups with someone who wasn’t interested in anyting more, he had to admit.

“Well he’s flying to Japan tonight, right?”

“Yup,” Niall said, clumsily digging out his phone. “just tweeted about it. Fuck him.”

Zayn ignored the venom in Niall’s tone. “He didn’t talk to any of the other guys,” he mused. “Did you notice? Lou and Li and Haz, none of em. They haven’t said a word about him.”

Niall just grunted and curled up further in the warmth of the room and the couch and his friend’s side. Zayn exhaled and settled in too, content to just fall asleep with just Usher’s voice and the lights dimmed. He was just slipping into a nice doze when someone knocked on the door. Loudly.

“GO AWAY,” Niall yelled, his voice hoarse from sleep. The knocking became more insistent.

Zayn groaned and stretched. “It’s probably just Danny or one of the guys.” He mumbled. He stood and stumbled to the door, never quite opening his eyes because he didn’t want to pull himself out of sleepy mode fully just to open the door for a friend.

It didn’t matter anyway. His eyes popped wide open of their own accord when he found Justin on the other side of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it'd be really cool if you could review and let me know if you liked this or if it's a mess and if I need to fix something. Constructive criticism super welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry! You've probably all forgotten about this fic but SCHOOL. and now nanowrimo!
> 
> I cut the second part in half in order to get it up faster so that's why it's so short and I'm very sorry :((  
> If you like hanging, bittersweet endings you could count this part as such. I personally like extravagant happy ones, which is what the third part will be.
> 
> ~Again, I have no real idea about everyone's living arrangements so I put everyone where I wanted them.  
> ~also I don't know how management teams really work in these type of situations so...sorry for probably inaccuracy on that count.
> 
> constructive crit is welcomed!

5.

Justin knew he shouldn’t have come as soon as the door swung open. For a moment, Zayn stared in shock, then swayed to the right in the most unsubtle motion Justin had ever seen. Niall wasn’t fooled either.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the sound of his voice made Justin’s chest feel tight. He knew that voice from hours on the phone, over skype, waking up together when they could, listening for it on the radio. He'd thought of a good answer on the way over, he was sure. But it had flown out of his head.

"...Um."

“Zayn, lemme talk to him.” Niall’s words were a bit more slurred, his accent less decipherable than usual. Zayn didn’t move right away. He eyed Justin carefully, though the blur in his eyes and slight stumble when he blocked Niall’s path made it clear he’d been drinking too.

He cocked his head a little too far to the left and swayed forward. “You sure you’re up for this, mate?” he said. Justin didn’t know what it was about Zayn’s voice that made him want to shiver...and he didn’t want to find out either.

“I’m good.” he said.

Zayn said “Your funeral.” and stepped out of the way.

Niall came forward. If there was one thing Justin knew about Niall it was that he wasn’t usually this explosive when drunk. When they first started hanging out Niall’s high functionality drunkenness had awed him. He’d also only seen Niall drunk and angry a few times, and those over the last few months. Whatever was happening with this, he wasn’t prepared for it.

"I asked you. What the fuck. You're doing here."

In the pause, Justin could almost hear every curse and swear Niall was holding back. He took in Niall's bare feet, red eyes, and determinedly angry expression. Finally, he said, "Alfredo told me you guys came. You know. To the show and I thought maybe I could drop by-"

"You thought you could drop by? Christ. Not unless the next thing you say is a really convincing apology. Did she try to convince you that you never liked me?" Niall spat. "Did she pray you straight?"

"I don't think we should bring her into this."

The guilty way Justin spoke sent a fresh burst of anger through Niall's veins. But that was trivial in the big picture of things. He could deal with Justin's mommy complex. Zayn’s story was what really made him angry. He could forgive people for doing shit things to him, He could forgive Justin for a lot of things when he pulled out those eyes. But the look in Zayn’s eyes that said he was heartbroken and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it? That wasn’t forgivable. At least, not tonight.

"Then did you come to break up with me? I’ll save you the trouble,” Niall took a breath, steadying himself. He couldn’t back down now. He couldn’t think about that first kiss or how Justin had listened to him ramble drunkenly for hours. He couldn’t think about the effort Justin had put into knowing him, understanding him. Treating him like a person and not a convenient emotional dump like many people tended to do. He took another deep breath and let the words go. “I don't have time for your shit anymore." he ignored the sting behind his eyes.

"Niall, please," Justin considered dropping to his knees right there in the doorway. They felt so weak he wondered if he’d already fallen without realizing it. "Please don’t. Please let me explain..that’s not. What you think isn’t what happened. It wasn’t like that.”

"S'what it looked like to me."

"I told you to go because I didn't want you to feel awkward. I didn't think it would make us start fighting again, you know? I don't want to fight."

"I don't want to fight either!" Zayn could hear the catch in Niall’s voice. He sat down hard on the couch, not sure he was hearing this correctly. "If you'd stop being such an asshole we wouldn't have to!"

"Me?" Justin felt his anger rising. "Like you've been some kind of saint lately?"

"I'm not fucking doing this." Niall turned to grab his wallet off of the front table and shove his shoes back on. He knew if the fight escalated they’d end up yelling about mothers and father and managers and fans until nothing made sense anymore. He shoved past Justin, ignoring the feelings of his skin, and took off. “Don’t follow me.”

Justin just stood there for several moments afterwards, blinking and looking lost.

Zayn coughed. "Do you uh...wanna come in?"

Justin sighed, his shoulders slumping forward, and nodded. They sat awkwardly on the couch, Zayn curled up in his bare feet and Justin slumped over staring at his shoes. The music was still playing softly, the lights down low. It was almost as if confessions were still in the air, drawing Justin's out.

"Niall's usually so relaxed and open and honest," he said softly " I know know no one can be like that all the time but...I don't know why he wants so badly for everything to be secret. It feels like this enormous pressure on our relationship and all I want is for us to have freedom, you know? To be together without all that hanging over us." he took a deep breath. "...I know I haven't like, explained it that way to him. Every time we try to talk about it it turns into a fight before we can say anything real. I just want us to be okay again but I don't know how to fix it and my mom just...she wants us to break it off. She thinks we're going too fast and she says she doesn't like him but she doesn't even know him. She was mad about how long we kept it from her. Now my parents are fighting about it." He put his head in his hands and exhaled.

Zayn watched him through half-closed eyes, his head lolling to the side on the back of the couch. "D'ya know anything about Niall's family?" he asked.

"Yeah, he talks about them a lot. They sound like great people."

"They are," Zayn says softly. "Niall's dad is a really great guy and all but...I think he kind of loves that Niall's good with girls. A “ladies man” or whatever. I'm not saying he'd be angry if Niall came home with a guy, I dunno. I'm just saying...maybe Ni doesn't know how to tell his dad somethin like that."

"Okay," Justin nodded slowly, "but he keeps...he says stuff like he thinks I'm ashamed of him. And he knows I love him. I don't understand." he turned to Zayn fully now.

"What d'ya expect?” Zayn said. He knew it wasn’t his place or his job to fix Justin and Niall’s relationship, but he found that he didn’t like the way either of them looked when they were sad, angry, and confused all at the same time. “You talk about how much your mom means to you all the time, you take him to meet her and then tell him to leave. That's some fucking shit to dump on someone you love."

Justin looked away. "I know. I've tried to apologize, he won't listen."

"You have to do more than apologize." It came out sharper than Zayn intended, but he didn’t regret it. If Justin could guilt Zayn into treating Niall better, he could return the favor.

"Zayn, I feel like I can't do anything else. I'm tired of fighting and tired of not being with him. Just really tired but... I don't know what to do about it."

Justin's head dropped to his hands again like it was just too much effort to stay upright. Zayn believed the part about being tired. In that moment he felt the section of couch separating them like an ocean. He was tired of holding himself back, angry at that section of couch like nothing else in the world. He wanted permission to hold Justin, to kiss and touch until everything seemed okay again. He held himself in, taking in a deep breath. They were confused and angry and tired and stubborn. They were his friends. They were in love. He'd be rejected anyway so there was no point in being the asshole homewrecker.

But then Justin looked up.There were tears in his eyes. Beyonce's voice crooned around them about one plus one equaling two. The lights were low, he was still half-drunk, and the shrieking guilt usually in the back of his mind was a muffled echo. Justin looked at him for a long moment. Everything in Zayn zeroed into the moment and consequences felt far far away.

"I'm sorry," Justin half whispered. Zayn knew by his tone that he had come to a realization. "I know i treated you like shit too. I get why you were so mad when I started dating Niall. I can't believe you didn't stop being my friend."

"I wouldn't."

There was nothing else said. Justin leaned into his space and he closed the gap. Justin's fingers, callused from picking at guitar strings his whole life, drifted up his arm. He shivered into the touch, falling into the kiss. Every touch with Justin felt like a slow dance underwater. The drag and pull, sweet and deep. He remembered every place to kiss that made Justin sigh or moan or try to hold in an embarrassing noise. He smelled the same with hints of something different. He pushed away the thought that it might be Niall's scent.

Justin had one hand on his neck and the other on his hip, stroking his hip bone and kissing his jaw when they heard the stomp of shoes outside and the turn of a key in the lock. All they had time to do was jump apart. Zayn ended up sprawled on the end of the couch with Justin crouched on the floor.

It didn't matter. Niall did a little drunken jig and sang the end of a Rihanna song as he came in the door. "Night Z." He mumbled.

Zayn and Justin stayed frozen for possibly the most painful moment of either of their lives. Justin finally stood up.

"I'll call you." he said.

"Yeah," Zayn felt like he was speaking through a film of cotton. He cleared his throat. "Okay." Justin let himself out without a backward glance.

Zayn curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. Trey Songz just had to come along at that moment to sing about how he wished he'd never did it, wished he'd never loved it. Zayn could still taste Justin on his tongue but the simple "Night Z," Niall mumbled as he passed kept replaying. Guilt felt like vomit in the back of his throat. Humiliation pulled blood into his cheeks. One of the people he loved best in the world had trusted him completely and he'd betrayed them. And he still couldn't muster up as much guilt as he wanted to.

He stayed awake letting smooth voices wash over him and replaying the hook up, the “Night, Z”, then let the guilt rip him up. Again. At around three he finally drifted off with Usher confessing on repeat.

 

6.

“I feel a lot better.” Niall said the next morning. It was a little difficult to believe. He was draped over the counter in his pajamas with his eyes shut against the light.

Zayn only grunted in response. He looked at his reflection in the toaster and thought, Fuck you, Malik. What kind of person let an old crush trump one of the best relationships in their life? A terrible person, that’s who. He chose to ignore the part of his mind that was still dreamy from last night. It was sighing and protesting that Justin was more than just a crush. It only made him hate himself more.

To make matters worse he jumped out of his skin every time his phone buzzed. It was almost always Louis texting him something ridiculous or a twitter notification. He didn’t respond to any of it.

He went to the back room, his temporary art studio while the new one was being built, to try painting for a while. It helped, but not much. His thoughts kept jumping back to last night. So much so that eventually he began to recognize it in every brush stroke, as though his thoughts were pouring themselves out without his permission.

“Fuck.” he told a canvas full of lust of and betrayal and self-loathing. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

At that precise moment his phone began to buzz wildly on the table. He caught Justin’s name on the screen and felt his nerves shoot up. He took a deep breath, “Pull it together, Malik,” he told himself. He wiped his hand and picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

“Hey Zayn,” Justin said. He continued before Zayn could say another word. “I’m so sorry about last night. I apologized for the way I treated you and then I did it again.”

Zayn was pleasantly surprised by how calm his voice sounded when he said, “Did what?”

“Fucked up,” Justin replied bluntly. “I can’t be with you Zayn. Like, at all, except as friends. I love Niall, you know? And I realized last night that I’ll do whatever it takes to be with him. Even give up any possibility of you and me. I don’t want a dumb fight to end what I have with him.”

The cheating might do it for you, Zayn wanted to say. It only made him feel more guilty about that they’d done though. Niall, of all people, didn’t deserve to be cheated on. Even if they were arguably broken up at the moment, every one of them knew that wasn’t the end.

“Yeah,” he said dully. “I get it.”

“Okay, good. I’m really, really sorry.”

“Bye.” Zayn hung up without waiting for Justin’s answer. He turned off the phone, picked up his brush, and attacked the canvas again.

The next morning, the last day before band obligations kicked into a higher gear, Justin showed up again wearing ratty sweats. There was no product in his hair, his bus was blocking the street outside like a beacon for paparazzi, and it seemed like he couldn’t care less. Zayn was the one who answered the door. He took one look at Justin’s big sorry brown eyes and shoved past, pushing Justin into the building in the process. He didn’t stick around to listen to the make up sex.

7.

“I just don’t know why I’ve been wasting all this energy thinking about him all the time, you know? It’s not like he’s the love of my life or something. It’s stupid. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Harry said, the first thing he’d gotten in edgewise for at least ten minutes. He was laying on the bed while Zayn sulked on the floor

“I am though! I could have stayed with Perrie. I loved her, she was amazing. We talked about marriage. Now I’m probably never going to find anything like that again. I’m fucking torturing myself being involved in Niall and Justin’s drama. I want both of them but I can’t have either of them. I should have moved on ages ago but.”

“You shouldn’t be involved,” Harry said softly “if it’s making you this miserable.”

“Mate, trust me, I keep trying not to be but then something happens and I’m in it again. I…” he considered not finishing his sentence. But it was Harry. If he couldn’t’ confess to Harry... “I hooked up with Justin last night.”

It had to happen sometime. He’d held himself together through nine months of stress with trembling hands and tight lips until he tipped, fell, and shattered. Harry rolled out of the bed, reached out and grabbed him, ignoring the jagged pieces. He pulled Zayn in close and said nothing while his friend sobbed.

Zayn forced himself to move back when the worst of it let up. He sat back and stared at the floor.  “I’ve never hurt a friend like this,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t tell you what to do or anything, but...Niall needs to know what happened. I’m not going to tell him or anything. I won’t tell anybody about this. S’ just, he doesn’t deserve to be in the dark about it.”

“Yeah,” Zayn thought dully of the way Niall looked when he cried and how it never failed to twist something inside Zayn. This time he wouldn’t be able to stop those tears. “I know. He’ll hate me though.”

“He won’t hate you,” Harry insisted, putting one arm around his shoulder. “You did something hurtful but that doesn’t mean you’re not a really great friend.”

“Thanks, Harry.” he didn’t believe a word really, but it was nice to hear.

They sat and talked until Zayn felt strong enough to leave. It didn’t mean he was strong enough to walk in on Niall and Justin having make up sex in the next room, but he figured he didn't have much of a choice.

 

8.

The hiatus was over, the tour had started back up, and the promos for This is Us were starting.

Zayn still hadn’t told Niall.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was that any time he was alone with Niall his friend was talking about Justin or laughing at something Justin texted him or generally looking blissfully in love again. It had been too long since he’d looked like that. He didn’t want to ruin it.

It wasn’t perfect. Harry kept giving him looks and then feigning innocence. He still felt overwhelmingly guilty any time Niall put Justin on speakerphone and he could hear their conversation perfectly from a few feet away, because Justin was still almost impossible not to love.

It didn’t help matters that Niall had started to act weird around him sometimes.

“No, seriously, what’s wrong?” He’d finally asked.

“I just feel bad,” Niall confessed. “I know how you feel about Justin, I know how hard it is to get over something like that no matter what you say. You sound happy when you talk to him but then you get weird. I don’t want to make you feel unhappy.”

That didn’t help Zayn’s guilt any.

So Niall started to avoid Zayn when he was talking to/about Justin, which was all the time. Zayn started avoiding Niall so he didn’t have to see the love-struck smiles or the guilty eyebrows. Eventually they’d gone two weeks without really talking to each other outside of strained greetings and interviews.

“What’s going on?” Liam demanded when he caught Zayn alone. “Did you and Niall have a fight?”

Zayn looked down at the cigarette he’d been contemplating for the last five minutes. It seemed amazing to him that so much drama had gone down yet Liam and Louis were completely oblivious to it. Not for Louis’ lack of trying. He’d caught a few of Harry’s looks and proceeded to bug him out of his mind about them. But Harry could be stubborn when he wanted to be, and keeping a friends secret was one of those times.

“We’re not fighting,” Zayn said. He decided to give Liam the least-upsetting truth he could. “Niall and I hooked up while he was broken up with Justin and it’s just...been weird.” He realized as he said it that as far as that particular incident went, there had been no awkwardness whatsoever. Maybe because sort-of cheating on Justin when he was being an asshole hadn’t left any guilt behind.

Liam’s eyebrows immediately went up into their most sympathetic position. “Seriously? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He was just upset, you know.”

“Still...That must be so hard to watch them together all the time. I’m sorry man.”

“It’s fine. He had to watch me with Perrie first, you know? We’ll get over it.” as he said it, he realized it was true. Niall had had to watch him all loved up with Perrie and talking about marriage for years, and he’d never moped or brooded or hooked up with Perrie. So now he could add awful ex to his list of failures.

“Do you want a hug?” Liam asked.

Before Zayn could answer he was surrounded by supporting arms and Liam’s scent. He slumped forward with no conscious thought. It was a relief to let someone else hold him up if just for a moment. “You’re not a bad person,” Liam said right next to his ear. “I can see you calling yourself names in your head but I promise you none of them are true. You’ll be okay.”

Sometimes Zayn thought Liam was a bit magic.

 

9.

“I can’t just tell him. We just stopped fighting, man.”

“Exactly my point,” Twist said, pointing his cigarette at Justin’s face. “It’s better to get all the fight out at once and then have tons of sex.”

“Dude-”

“PLUS, if you hold on to it he’s gonna find out eventually man. And he’s gonna be even more pissed.”

“I know.”

“Do you think maybe you hooked up with Zayn cause you’re not supposed to be with Niall? I mean cause you’ve said stuff about how it feels like something missing.”

“No! Dude, it’s like you’re not even paying attention. I’m in love with Niall. I love Zayn too but...Zayn’s just a friend.”

“That was your lie voice.”

“I don’t have a lie voice.”

Twist turned and blew away his smoke. He turned back with raised eyebrows.

Justin sighed. “Shut up.”

Justin started at the space past Twist’s shoulder as his friend kept talking. His feelings for Niall and Zayn were easy enough to catalogue separately, but at some point they entangled and he found it hard to deal with them. Was there something missing with Niall? They were in love. He knew that in his bones. But the way he felt about Zayn...it was overwhelming sometimes. It was definitely more than a crush but...it couldn’t be love too? It felt so different. No. He loved Zayn as a ridiculously good looking friend and that was all.

Right?

 

Justin went to sleep and dreamed about two different smiles, one bright and carefree, the other a little crooked and sometimes hard to come bye. He did his best to ignore them when awake.

Niall drifted off thinking about two pairs of arms, both tattooed up one side, both thin but muscular, but accompanied by two different voices and scents and sets of feelings. He tried not to worry about it too much.

Zayn’s dreams were two different pairs of lips blending together and devouring his. He felt guilty awake but oddly satisfied in the moments before his eyes opened.

 

10.

Justin and Niall came out on their anniversary, totally by accident.

When Niall’s plane landed in an airport swarming with fans he honestly meant to give Justin  a big, platonic hug. But Justin was in sweats, not shades or jewelry and his hair wasn’t done. Dammit, he knew what that did to Niall. He looked like he’d been up for days but couldn’t give less of a fuck. When his eyes met Niall’s they were bright and his smile was involuntary. He took a step forward and suddenly Niall found himself running. He might have shoved someone, he’d never be sure, all he knew was that he jumped and Justin caught him. He laughed and Justin laughed too and then they were kissing.

And then it felt very quiet.

They pulled back at the same time. Niall felt solid ground again and the first place he looked was Justin's eyes.

Are you okay with this? his eyes asked.

Justin's eyes said  _DUH._

Niall glanced back at his boys, and they were all smiling. He decided that was really the only thing that mattered.

 

11.

Enraged was putting it lightly. Justin and One Direction’s teams were terrifying in one room together. Simon sighed a lot over the phone and sounded annoyed with the team for not having known sooner. Scooter Braun swore at a lot of team members but didn’t seem angry at any of the boys. Several people Niall assumed were their bosses at management and label had come in and yelled. Mother had called. The boys were under strict instructions not to check twitter after they composed the tweets showing their support for the new couple.

At around midnight Niall and Justin were curled around each other half-asleep, Harry, Louis, and Liam were playing some game on the floor, and Zayn was staring at his phone, waiting for Perrie’s next text. A member of the 1D management team and Scooter Braun came in to let the boys know the plan.

“We’ve decided to proceed as if this was planned all along. As long as you all act like this isn’t a surprise--”

“Um, it isn’t.” Louis interrupted.

Liam and Zayn simultaneously pinched him in the side. The frazzled man continued. “We think we can pull off convincing the public they don’t mind being lied to. It should all work out if we stick to this plan, but-” he took a moment to glare at all of them in turn “It would have worked out better if you had given us time and information.”

Not surprisingly, they were the topic of conversation (aka celebrity gossip) for several weeks afterward. All of their friends, famous and otherwise, amassed behind the boys in support. Even people they didn't like supported them, possibly to get cool points or because they really did support the relationship, if not the people themselves. They had to go on radio shows with homophobic douchebags and pretend to laugh at stupid jokes, they had to do interviews with people that had been making fun of their “unusually close bromance” weeks before, and it took awhile to get used to seeing themselves on the cover of magazines together.

But honestly, Niall and Justin found themselves much too in love to really care all that much.

-*-

Zayn and Perrie went to dinner. Paparazzi took pictures, they ignored them. They talked, they laughed, and Zayn felt a little bit normal, reveling in the relief from his now-normal state of unhappiness.

But then Perrie looked at him before he could even get the question out and said “Zayn, no.”

“What do you mean?” he played dumb. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but you’re about to. I can’t do it Zayn. The break up was for the best and I don’t think we should go down that road again, okay?”

Maybe the dinner should have turned awkward and he should have left feeling humiliated but Zayn realized that he hadn’t expected any other answer. Possibly because he’d gotten used to telling himself the same thing, or simply because it was the truth. Either way, he nodded, and the conversation continued where it had left off.

She hugged him close before they left in separate cars going opposite directions.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end, short and sort of sweet I think. I'm dead tired right now and I just wrote the last part but I'm putting it up now because it's FINISHED.  
> pretty sure Justin doesn’t own a beach, but I wouldn’t put it past him.  
> also, if I made a mess of the poly relationship thing I apologize! I hope I didn't but feel free to let me know if I did.  
> Also, be warned, this is last bit is kind of ridiculous and maybe ooc as far as louis and the other boys go. sorry.

12.

Louis was sick of being out of the loop.

The awkwardness with Zayn would enter a room was so thick he could feel it. It followed them on the tour, to hotel rooms, to parties and award shows. Louis would find himself glancing between Justin, who acted aggressively normal, to Zayn, who stared at his phone or whoever he was talking to with intense concentration, to Niall, who would suddenly have nothing to do with his hands even though a minute before he had them somewhere on Justin.

“What the Hell,” he said to Liam one day, “is going on with those three?” they were on Justin’s bus for a change, headed to a private beach. Because of course Justin Bieber owned a beach. Of course.

Then Liam, of all people, got cagey on him. “You should just let them work their issues out,” he said. “Don’t get involved.”

“Get involved with what? What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing!”

“Liam-” and Louis was fully prepared to use every weapon he knew of, including begging, brute force, and seduction to make him talk when Harry spoke up from the doorway.

“Just leave it, Louis.” he said. He was doing his frowny-eyebrow/arms folded thing that meant I’m-Bigger-than-You-and-I-Mean-Business-No-Louis-Really-I’m-Serious. It was probably Louis’ least-favorite stance for Harry to take. He spun around slowly, eyes narrowed.

“You,” he said, stepping into Harry’s personal space.

“Yeah?”

“You know what’s going on and you haven’t told us,” he looked back at Liam “Is is us, right? You don’t know everything either.”

“Well,” Liam said “not everything.But I don’t have to!” he rushed on before Louis could interrupt. “Seriously, if we get involved it’ll probably be a big mess. I’m pretty sure it’s already a big mess. So we shouldn’t.”

“He’s right.”

“Fucking hell, the both of you’ve lost your minds. If our friends need our help-”

“Louis,” Harry said. “I know it looks like they do, but it’s not our place.”

“Bullshit. We’re their best friends,” Harry looked like he might waver for a moment, but in the end he straightened his eyebrows and glared seriously down his nose, so Louis rolled his eyes and pushed past him. “Fine.”

He left the back of the bus in search of Justin’s friends, camped out on the couch because Justin and Niall had locked themselves in the bedroom.  No one could blame them really, this get together had taken a solid month of planning and maneuvering. Louis knew if he’d had to go through that much shit to see someone he loved he would ignore his friends too.

“So,” he said. “our friends are miserable, I want to fix you, but I can’t if I don’t know why. Who else here is a good friend?”

Twist agreed with Louis. Ryan didn’t. Louis decided to disregard Ryan’s opinion, because not only was a little bit of a douchebag but he was completely jealous of Zayn and probably wouldn’t have helped him unless under threat of death.

Harry and Liam heard Twist saying “You wanna know, I’ll tell you, they’re your crazy friends.” and groaned. They went to join the others on the couch. It astounded Harry how no matter how many battles anyone won, Louis never seemed to lose the war.

 

13.

It was even worse when Zayn stared at the floor and both Justin and Niall snatched glimpses of him out of the corner or their eyes and both kind of wanted to hug him and apologize but neither of them did. Niall tried not to kiss or even touch Justin too much in front of Zayn, which made them both nervous. Niall got up the nerve to talk to Zayn about it once.

“Zayn,” he says “If you want me to not be with Justin, or to not be with him around you, like...I’m okay with that. You’ve been miserable for like a year now, and to be honest it’s  hurting me to see you like this.”

That last sentence had Zayn’s head snapping up and words falling out of his mouth before Niall could continue. “No, no, no, mate, no! That’s not what I want at all. I’ll get over it, honestly. I’m just being pathetic, you know me.”

“You’re not pathetic. You really care about him, and me. and we care about you, s’why we want you to be happy.”

“I will be,” Zayn said, pasting on a smile Niall could have seen through from space. If Zayn wasn’t so beautiful when he smiled, or if it hadn’t been the first one Niall had seen in a while, he would have called him out on it. Instead, they changed the subject.

 

14.

But back to the bus.

Justin and Niall finally came out of the bedroom at the same time that Zayn stumbled out of the bunk he’d been napping in and Twist, with Harry’s (guilt-ridden) help got done telling the story to Louis and Liam.

When Zayn, Niall, and Justin all had to meet each other in the corridor, it was only a little over-dramatic to say you could smell the guilt in the air. And not just guilt. Longing, attraction, secrets, and uncertainty. It was like a dramatic pause in a soap opera, and Louis, fresh full of new information, was ready to just scream at them all to just get on with it already!

But one, he hadn’t figured out what ‘it’ was yet, and two, Harry leaned over and hissed in his ear “I swear to God if you say one fucking word I will never suck you off again and I definitely won’t let you watch me with Nick. I don’t care if your balls turn purple and your right hand falls off.”

Louis was silent except for a tortured-sounding whimper that finally broke the trance their friends were in. Justin, Zayn, and Niall all turned to stare at him but he was suddenly fascinated with his hands.

Harry just smiled pleasantly.

 

15.

“So it’s like a proper love triangle then?” Liam said much later. He, Louis, and Harry were piled into one of Justin’s guest room beds. Louis was sitting in the middle, propped up by the headboard. Liam was laying on his side next to Louis’ left knee with his leg thrown over Harry’s, who was sprawled across all other available bed space. “Justin loves Zayn and Niall, Niall loves Justin and Zayn, Zayn loves Niall and Justin?”

“It’s like a triangle with all of the corner’s pointing inwards,” Louis said. “It’s driving me mad!”

“We can’t live like this.” Liam agreed.

“What about, like, polyamorous relationships?” Harry suggested.

“What like...they’re all boyfriends?” Liam asked.

“Shit, yes!” Louis exclaimed. He whipped out his phone and started tapping out a note to himself. “Right. that’s how this needs to be solved.It’s the only way everyone’s happy. They should just all be boyfriends. True love split three ways.”

“There’s only a few problems with that,” Harry said. “Niall still doesn’t know about Justin and Zayn hooking up. Justin doesn’t know about Niall and Zayn hooking up. And as you can see Zayn’s decided to be all Zayn about it and bow out gracefully or whatever the fuck.”

“Well we can't let that stand.” Louis made a disapproving noise.

“Obviously I want to help but at this point I don’t see how we can,” Liam said. “It’s not like we can throw them in a room and lock it until they work it out.”

Harry sat up on his elbows and craned his neck back. Louis looked up from his phone. Silence reigned for fifteen agonizing seconds before Liam sighed.

“If anyone asks, it was Lou’s idea.”

 

At exactly midnight, operation Three-Way True Love began with a vengeance. First, Ryan stole the house keys from Justin. It wasn’t hard, since he and Niall had fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. Liam made sure the master bedroom windows were sealed from the outside, Louis and Twist moved all the heavy furniture they would find into the hallway outside the master bedroom, and Harry made sure it was stocked with snacks and condoms.

Once these things were accomplished, it was only a matter of lugging a drunk, sleeping Zayn off of the patio and into the room, then gently prodding and nudging the loverbids in the right direction. Justin and Niall simply went where they were told, hardly opening their eyes at all. They stumbled into the room and dropped into the bed beside Zayn.

The matchmakers closed the door and barricaded the door with a small mountain of furniture. When they were done they all collapsed in a heap next to it.

“There are so many ways this could go wrong.” Harry said.

“Justin is gonna kill us.” Ryan said.

“Relax, you can blame it all on me.” Louis said.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Liam warned.

“Everybody shut up and sleep.” said Twist.

 They did.

  


16.

 

“Oh God,” Justin said the next morning, “please tell me we didn’t all…”

 “No,” said Zayn, “those little shits put us here last night.” he passed Justin a bottled water and the aspirin Harry had thoughtfully left for them. Niall had yet to wake up, still pillowed on Justin’s lap.

 “Why?” Zayn handed him Louis’ drunkenly scribbled note without comment. It just said Check the top drawer! Good luck lads! At Justin’s confused look, Zayn jerked his head toward where he’d opened the top drawer. There were three different kinds of lube and enough condoms for an army. “Fuck.”

 “S’not even the worst part. They locked us in here.”

 “The doors don’t even lock from the outside!”

 “I dunno what they did, but the door won’t move.”

 “You’re shittin me.” that was Niall, who now had his eyes open and was pawing at the aspirin in Justin’s hands. Justin dropped two down his throat without looking and Niall swallowed easily.

 “I wish mate.”

 Niall sighed. “I’m gonna go back to sleep. Maybe they’ll get bored and let us out. Whatever.” He turned over, put a pillow over his head, and went back to sleep. Justin shrugged and settled down beside him. Zayn just stood and looked at the two of them for a moment, tucked up together from head to toe. They belonged together, they didn’t need him, and he was going to kill Louis.

 Then Niall said “Come to bed, Zayn.” at the same time as Justin held up a hand for Zayn to take. Zayn put his hand out automatically, not totally realizing what was about to happen...and then he was being tugged gently into bed. The vise that felt like it’d been squeezing his heart loosened a little. He put his chin on the top of Justin’s head and felt himself relax for the first time in what felt like ages.

When they woke up, there were three cups of tea and a pile of printouts and pamphlets about polyamory on the desk. They each took their coffee without speaking and tried to act like the papers weren’t there.

 Niall cracked first. “What the hell,” he said, snatching up the first page. “It can’t hurt to look.” He laughed awkwardly and sipped his tea. Justin and Zayn looked at each other, then picked up their tea and papers too. Niall got anxious and high-strung in stressful situations and neither one of them wanted to make him feel that way.

 “Mine’s called ‘Could A Poly Relationship be Right for you?’.” Justin offered.

 “Mine’s ‘Polyamory: An Introduction’.” said Zayn, catching on.

 Niall smiled gratefully at them both. “Mine’s like a how-to on three-way relationships. It has pictures, even.” He flashed the paper at them with a goofy smile and went back to reading.

 After a few more silent minutes in which they all traded papers and went to sit down on the bed with the stack in front of them Justin spoke up. “So, just to get a feel for the room..are we educating ourselves just cause or are we like, seriously considering this?” He looked first at Zayn, then at Niall.

 “Um,” said Zayn.

 “I…” said Niall.

 Justin sighed. “Okay, I need to. Look. Niall. I lied to you. I told you nothing happened while we were fighting but that isn’t true.”

 Zayn felt himself freeze. Everything had started to feel comfortable and happy, like maybe everything could actually be okay thanks to their asshole meddling friends and that illusion was about to be shattered. Maybe it was for the best, he thought, at least he hadn’t had time to get used to it.

 “I started calling Zayn all the time in the middle of the night when we were fighting,” Justin’s eyes were trained on his empty tea mug and the way his hands gripped it tighter and tighter as he spoke. “You know how after we made up I told you about how Zayn and I used to hook up?”

 “Yeah.” Niall nodded, not looking at Zayn.

 “Yeah. I tried to act like I was only calling him because we were friends,” Justin continued “like Ryan or Twist or anybody but that wasn’t what it was. Then when I was in London after the thing with my mom I. I’m so sorry. Zayn and I kind of made out and then I didn’t tell you about it and I told him it didn’t mean anything even though it did and it’s the same thing I did to him before and I hurt you both and I’m sorry.” Justin stopped talking and cowered between them, still not looking up.

 Niall exhaled. “You kissed Zayn?” he said.

 Justin nodded. Niall flicked a glance toward Zayn, who seemed frozen. “Good,” he said. “so did I. Same weekend actually.” Justin’s head snapped back up.

 He and Niall stared at each other for a long moment and then looked at Zayn. “I’m sorry too.” he said. “I shouldn’t have fucked with your relationship.”

 “Zayn…” Justin and Niall said at the same time.

 "Babe, you didn’t.” Niall said.  He looked at Justin again and then he leaned forward and kissed Zayn softly on the lips. “I’m sorry for being an idiot.” he said as he pulled back.

 “Me too.” said Justin, leaning in where Niall had been an instant before.

 The moment after he pulled away was so tense Niall wanted more than anything to make it all easy, but he knew Zayn had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Justin stared at the downward sweep of Zayn’s eyelashes and thought to himself that he’d get on his knees and beg for him to consider what they were offering if that’s what it took. Zayn stared downwards because he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. There was a warmth curling in his chest and his face felt hot. Instead of breaking down crying, he took a breath and looked up.

 “If it’s all the same to you two, then,” he said. “I think i’d like for us to be seriously considering this. I’d like for there to be an us.”

 “Yes.” said Niall, at the same time as Justin said “Of course.”

 They all three sat grinning at each other until they realized there were dull thuds coming from the direction of the door. They glanced at each other questioningly, just as Liam and Twist moved the last bit of furniture out of the way and Louis came flying through the door, diving for them and shouting “THREE WAY MAN LOVE!”

The rest of their friends filed in sheepishly. There were papers everywhere and one spilled tea mug, Liam was loudly insisting it was all Louis doing and he had nothing to hide, and Zayn was berating Louis for being a nosy little shit. There was sex to be had, logistics to figure out, and people to tell. They’d worry about it all later. For now, they were finally together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this! I hope the ending didn't disappoint anyone too much, really sorry for how long it took!

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment/review!


End file.
